Hearts of Parchment
by The Jester Erebus
Summary: Another take on Lolita more true to the novel , from the perspective of Severus Snape. He sees the world in black and white and grey, but colors collide along with hearts, as a certain Miss Granger appears into his life. This was unexpected, but he will use it to his advantage, for now...


_**I was re-reading Lolita…again, and I came up with yet ANOTHER idea for a story. Hope you enjoy. As I have said before, I probably won't update on here anymore, seeing as how they are deleting many stories. My Live Journal name is Jester_Erebus, and I am making a you tube video for this fanfic that can me found under NargleMoon. **_

_** Hearts of Parchment**_

_**A Severus Snape/Hermione Granger fan fiction based on the disturbing masterpiece Lolita (not to be confused with Me, Lolita, my other fan fiction that I am very proud of, that is based on the CONCEPT of Lolita).**_

_PROLOGUE_

I, Severus Snape, am not, by any means a nice man.

I was rightfully placed in Slytherin House, for my lust of power and my cunning intelligence. My father never approved of Wizardry and Witchcraft, being the despicable, intolerant drunkard he was. My mother, bless her, had tried her best to love me, but her overwhelming need to please Tobias Snape overpowered her, and I grew up in a cold, lifeless environment.

I never saw the world in color. It was all black and white and shades of grey, even the flowers and the sky, dreary and painted in the charcoal canvas that was my dismal upbringing. There was no color, until I saw one day, a beautiful, different sort of flower, blooming bright towards the hidden sun.

Her name was Lily.

Lily, oh dear, sweet Lily…her name rolls off of the tip of my tongue still. She didn't judge me, and I think she loved me, in her own, fleeting sort of way. We were the best of friends, and I would hold her hand in mine at times, and I can still feel the fragile bird-bones flex as she grasped her delicate fingers over mine.

Potter ruined it all, but not without a little help from myself.

I knew now that my lust for the dark arts was corroding mine and Lily's friendship, but at the time, I didn't see it. It is clear as day now, that I could have prevented all that had transpired between us. I thought, at fifteen, that she would have been impressed of my power and greatness, but I was wrong.

_Mudblood! _

The callous word still echoes through my heart and soul, and as I lurk the corridors of Hogwarts more than a decade later, I can feel the stone walls that I had built around myself crumble.

I am as despised at Hogwarts as a teacher, almost more so than when I was a student.

Lily didn't betray me. No, it was I who had betrayed her, by siding with the Dark Lord. And that is something that I will never forgive myself for.

The Sorting Ceremony for the new first years would begin soon. Albus had told me that the Potter boy would be in the ceremony, this year, and I was dreading seeing those emerald eyes, placed on the face of James Potter. It makes me sick to think of it, and even though I resent him now, even before I have set eyes on him, I knew the boy could not help his parentage.

I sat down in the Great Hall, next to the quivering Quirrell, whom I and Dumbledore suspect as being not all he seems. I watch as the first years scurry in, such eagerness, such youth, such innocence.

I had never known innocence like these children have, and I envy them of that.

Once again, I see the world with no color. I spot the Potter boy amidst the grey, his skin a pale white, his hair jet black, but his eyes-emerald jewels sparkling bright in the grey world. My heart patters in my chest, and I glance at the Sorting Hat.

"Hermione Granger," Minerva calls.

My eyes widen, and quickly I school my features as I watch a young girl with bushy brown hair bounce up to the chair. Hermione, her name was. And her skin was a pale gold that shown across the spectrums of bleak color. Her eyes were a muddy brown, and I frowned into my goblet silently as I took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Gryffindor!" that blasted hat hollered, and I turned to look into Potter's eyes once more. The emerald eyes still shone, and I felt Lily's presence.

/

The Granger girl, as it turned out, was quite a nuisance.

A know-it-all, brilliant, and daring, but an annoyance, none-the-less. I fume quietly as I leaf through her parchment of homework, trying to find any excuse to give her a T.

I couldn't find one, and reluctantly, I gave her an Exceeds Expectations. I'd be damned if I gave the silly little girl an Outstanding.

As the years go on, I watch as the children grow up. The world is still dark shades of grey and inky black, but one stood out to me: one still stands out to me, as she grows older, and matures around her two bumbling friends. She was all golden skin and brown hair and honeyed eyes, my little gold and scarlet lioness…

_Hermione Granger._

_PART ONE_

I had never been one to talk amongst others. I keep my secrets close to me, especially my dearest flower Lily, and now this new, strange development with Miss Granger. She was seventeen now, in her sixth year at Hogwarts, and more brilliant than ever. I curse myself for my perversity. I can imagine Albus' disgust, at his teacher and triple agent, leering like a lecherous old man over one of his students…and Minerva, her anger over her prized prodigy's defilement.

Her innocence was not in flesh, no, it was in her heart, and mind. She was not pure, as I had found out one day, when I was stalking up the stairs by the Gryffindor Common Room.

I could not help (but, oh, dear listener, I _could _have helped myself) but overhear her talking to Potter about her escapades with a certain Viktor Krum. It would seem that she was upset over the Weasley twit for finding a girlfriend.

I did not keep up with the gossip that the students spread. I found it to be trivial and immature. But something deep inside of me, a beastly, ferocious part of me, wanted to show her, show her the art of lovemaking, of true carnal passion.

That moment would come soon, and the monster that resided inside of me growled it's perverse triumph when I finally grasped her in my spidery clutches..

I had planned it very carefully; a detention, of course, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, when she had a spat with Draco. _So convenient_, I thought to myself. Draco I favored as a student, yes, but his close-minded ways infuriated me. He threw the word Mudblood around as if it were meaningless.

"Detention, Miss Granger," I drawled, as Draco smirked and Hermione gaped at me in disbelief. Oh, that mouth, the things I could have done in that moment, perfect little doll lips painted with a faint sheen of gloss…I wondered what they tasted like, what they would look like stretched over my-

But enough of that. That would come later, to my wretched glee, and her surprise.

**PART ONE TO BE CONTINUED **

_**Well, if you guys like, let me know. I'm working on my own novel right now for Camp Nanowrimo, so updates will be slow. **_


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